The Ghosts
by SophieRomanoff
Summary: Post The Winter Soldier. 'She was expecting a mercenary, someone sent from the government to quiet her before she made any more noise, either that or Clint had finally decided to show his face. She wasn't expecting James Buchanan Barnes.' Natasha gets to her safe house to find James hiding as he remembers. As the ghosts threaten to overwhelm him, James must make a decision.


Hey Marvel lovers, it's ya girl back again with another angst filled fanfic. This time featuring Bucky Barnes and Natasha Romanoff. Tw for suicidal thoughts, actions, ptsd, flashbacks etc. I found an image from one of the comics (no idea which one) with 'I might have put a bullet in my brain to quiet the ghosts… if not for Natasha…' on it so I obvs had to fic it. This is set post The Winter Soldier. Enjoy! And please leave comments, they're my life blood.

Natasha knew from the moment she entered the safe house that she wasn't alone. Gun in hand, the redhead cautiously stalked through the hallway and into the living room.

She'd had a hell of the day, dealing with the world's governments as she tirelessly tried to convince them not to imprison her and her friends.

She was expecting a mercenary, someone sent from the government to quiet her before she made any more noise, either that or Clint had finally decided to show his face.

She wasn't expecting James Buchanan Barnes, alone.

"Natalia-"

It had been so long she'd last heard that name, and coming from James, it could've been twenty years ago.

"James." Natasha said quietly, not letting go of her gun just yet.

"How did you find me?" She pressed, stepping out of the shadows.

"It wasn't difficult." Bucky murmured, looking up from the floor. "I used to know you very well."

Natasha fumbled for words a little, because after fighting him a couple of times, he'd never even hinted that he remembered her. Not when he shot through her years ago, not when she had her thighs around his neck trying to choke him, not when he'd shot her again.

But oh, he'd remembered Steve, and that had hurt. But Steve had been pre-Hydra, their whole relationship had been forged in the flames of Hydra and The Red Room.

"You pulled Steve from the water." Natasha said carefully, taking another step towards him. She could see now when the light shone from outside that he too had a gun.

"I remembered him. 'I'm with you till the end of the line.' Our...childish mantra." He visibly shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head a little like he was trying to ignore someone speaking. Which she realised, was what was happening. She knew the voices too well.

"But you're not waiting for Steve, you were waiting for me."

"Yes." Bucky opened his eyes and looked up at her, his gaze clouded over.

"Because when I ran from the water's edge, I began to remember more than Steve." He stood finally, facing her.

"Natalia..." he breathed, fingers twitching like he wanted to touch her. "I remembered you."

Natasha inhaled shakily, her stomach heavy and her eyes filling with tears.

"I remember...meeting you. When you were just a girl. Training you, watching you grow.

I remember shooting you in Odessa, and again just a week ago. I remember bits and pieces in between. You being the last girl left. Becoming friends with you, only to have my mind wiped again and again. I remember countless first time meetings, only the first for me because you remembered all of them. I remember James instead of Soldier, I remember laughing and dancing. Ballet? I remember being wiped and sent away time and time again, your face when I would return. Relief and sorrow and pain." He winced, shaking his head and taking a step back.

He seemed a little manic now and Natasha, tears on her cheeks only stepped towards him.

"James." She whispered, reaching out her hand.

"Natasha. I like that name. It's Russian but not exactly like Natalia. I imagine it's a name you don't want to hear again."

"I don't mind. Just not many people know it." She said quietly. "You were gone for...years. They told me you were dead and I was fifteen." She shook her head. "You were the only friend I'd had and you were gone. The girls were dying, and I knew something was wrong. It wasn't right. It was time to run." She whispered. "Run like hell, Natalia, don't end up like me."

Bucky stiffened, tilting his head. "I said that?" He croaked out.

"Many times. It just took me a while to realise you were right."

Bucky let out a strangled sob and suddenly the gun barrel was pointed at his temple.

"But I don't just remember you, Talia, or Steve or...or the war. I remember every awful thing I've done." He growled. "Killing, torture, seduction, whatever they wanted from me. I remember the man I shot through you, I remember a man and a woman in a car, squeezing the life out of him and smashing her head into the steering wheel. I remember begs and screams of pain, I remember every single face." His eyes were wild.

"James-" Natasha's throat felt like it had closed to a pinprick. "James, that wasn't you. Put the gun down." She whispered, suddenly so terrified that she was losing him all over again. There was no enemy to fight, no person to hurt right there, there was just James and the ghosts.

"I did that. I did all of it and I have caused...so much pain, Talia, and it hurts."

"James, look who you're talking to. I killed innocents because my teacher said to, I killed girls younger than me so I could get a warm meal. So I would survive." Her eyes didn't leave the gun pressed to his head.

"You're the only one who could understand." He whispered.

"I do. We were brainwashed, controlled, we took our orders like good soldiers but James, they're gone now. You are you, you are good, and you fought for your freedom. Don't throw that away now. Don't throw your life away now."

"I...don't deserve to live. When so many have died at my hands." He winced.

"James, I get it. I tried to...I nearly succeeded in ending my life. I felt hopeless, like my life had never been anything more than...pointless. My body was a weapon and my mind was a mess. But James, I promise you, your life is worth it."

She stepped forward, very slowly, like cornering a scared animal.

"Give me the gun, James." She whispered, holding out her hand. "I'm telling you that your life is worth living. You used to trust me. And I trusted you. Please give me the gun."

Bucky visibly shuddered, his body tightly wound and his grip white on the trigger.

"Now is not the time to run, now is the time to fight." Natasha said softly. "James. "

"Natalia." He whispered brokenly.

Both their faces were wet with tears.

The next seconds were terrifying. His finger tightened on the trigger and Natasha readied herself to tackle the gun away when his arm dropped to the side and the gun clattered to the floor.

In seconds, Bucky was following onto his hands and knees and Natasha was touching his face, his arms, his hair as a sob escaped his lips.

She silently pulled him into her lap, rocking him, hands stroking through his long brown locks.

"Your hair has grown, Dzheyms." She whispered, rocking them both back and forth.

"Yours has been cut." He whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I suppose it has." She said quietly, cautiously pressing a kiss to his temple.

"Natalia..." Bucky whispered, his body still trembling with sobs and his voice thick with emotion.

"Yes, James?"

"I have missed you."

"I missed you too, Dzheyms."

/

Dzheyms-James in Russian


End file.
